


The Watch You Always Wear

by writtendlessly



Category: Minecraft Youtubers, Team Crafted
Genre: Angst, BajanCanadian - Freeform, Gen, NoochM, Pre-Slash, Unrequited Love?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:32:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtendlessly/pseuds/writtendlessly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that Mathew is mad at him, of course not. In fact, Mat likes to think there's no one in the world who is more proud of Mitch than he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Watch You Always Wear

It's not that Mathew is mad at him, of course not. In fact, Mat likes to think there's no one in the world who is more proud of Mitch than he is. Realistically, Mitch's family are probably just as proud, if not more, but their attention always comes with an undertone of "Please don't stay inside all day, please go to college, please come visit us." Mat, however, is infinitely and unchangingly proud of how far Mitch has come. No if's or but's or footnotes needed.

(Perhaps a small "Please don't forget me" is there—size 7 font, light gray, hidden between lines of sarcastic jokes and late-night drinking sessions.)

He's not mad, but it's hard not to be bitter when Mitch tells him of all his future plans with Jerome and Adam and a million other people that aren't him. They try to keep business separate from their personal lives—or well, business for Mitch and a hobby for Mat—but it always comes back to Minecraft eventually. Mitch was like a child in some ways, never able to keep from blurting out anything that made him excited and happy.

It's infectious at times, Mat unable to keep from grinning as they talk about how big the house in Los Angeles is and how beautiful the beaches are. But Mitch will always say something about "Team Crafted" or "power moves" or other things Mat is not involved in or doesn't understand, and the heavy feeling settles in his stomach once again.

 

 

It's late on a Friday night, or early Saturday morning, and Mat is the only one left after the party at Mitch's house. Mitch was celebrating a new game on his server, Mat thinks, but the alcohol makes it hard to remember exactly what the occasion was. Mat had just finished midterms, as did the others at the party, so that was reason enough to get completely wasted.

(Maybe, if you looked closely enough, you'd see another reason to drink himself into a stupor lingering under Mat's skin. A reason that has nothing to do with his conversation with Mitch earlier that evening, when they were setting up the alcohol and pre-gaming with a few shots. A reason that was absolutely not related to Mitch's excited plans, not related to the million rap lyric catch phrases that go over Mat's head, not related to the way Mitch only talks about his future now and never asks about Mat. His drinking is not about Mitch at all.)

(Maybe if Mat tells himself this enough times, he'll start to believe it.)

Everyone else had left sometime between Mat's 6th beer and Mitch's 3rd, and so Mat was alone on the matress in Mitch's basement, watching hazily as Mitch spun back and forth in his chair and clicked around on his computer. Mat eventually gets bored of trying to stay as still as possible to keep the world from spinning, and instead closes his eyes and asks, "What are you doing over there?"

Mitch turns to him, decidedly more sober than Mat, and chuckles at the state of his friend. "Just skyping with some of the guys," he responds.

 _The guys_. Mat knows who he means, of course, but he tries to look as disinterested as possible as he says, "Oh?" and turns on his side to look at Mitch again.

Mitch ignores him for a few seconds to type, then turns back to Mat again, excitement already lighting up his eyes. "It's about the house, Adam thinks we can turn the living room into this crazy home theater thing."

Mat just makes a noise in response, but Mitch understands him well enough to know that means he's listening.

"The basement is probably gonna be where we record and we wanna get a jacuzzi to put outside with the pool. It's gonna be dank, dude. For real." Mitch turns to completely face Mat now, no longer typing frantically in multiple Skype windows, and sees Mat frowning up at the ceiling. Mitch's face scrunches up in confusion. "What's wrong?"

Mat jumps a little at that, immediately schooling his face into a more indifferent expression, keeping his voice as steady as possible as he responds, "Nothing, dude. It sounds like it's gonna be sick."

Mitch frowns a little in response, muttering, "You know you can always come if you want."

Mitch has suggested this before. There's schools in LA that Mat could transfer to and probably tons of jobs for programmers in the city for when he graduates. Mitch even offered to pay for the flight and help with tuition. Mat thinks he's just trying to throw money at a problem to fix it, but he appreciates the sentiment. Going to Los Angeles would mean a lot of things; leaving his family and his bunnies and his dog, leaving his friends, starting over in a new school and probably graduating a year or more late, and a whole list of things he doesn't want to deal with.

It's not that his friendship with Mitch isn't worth it and it's not that he doesn't want to live in what is basically a mansion with some really cool guys. But he can't. He can't follow after Mitch like a lost puppy, can't live his life as "BajanCanadian's friend", can't piggyback on Mitch's career and success just because Mat can't let go. Mat is damn proud of Mitch's success and only wants to see him grow. If leaving Montreal and Mat behind was what it took, then so be it.

(And if the lump in his throat, the clenching of his fists, the fluttering of his heart try to change his mind, Mat will fight his own body with eyes blazing and sword drawn. Even if it takes all that he has. Even if he barely makes it through, covered in battle scars and blood. Even if he doesn't make it through at all.)

Mat, in his still drunken haze, imagines all of this. He imagines himself with a diamond sword and a bow, trying his best to fight a more angular, Minecraft-style version of Clockwerk. He gets so distracted he almost forgets to respond to Mitch, and by the time he mutters back an, "I know," Mitch is already turned back to his computer. Mitch must have assumed he fell asleep, putting his headphones on and quietly talking in what looks to be a group Skype call.

Mat eventually sneaks back upstairs to sleep, Mitch never noticing until hours later when Mat has already driven home the next day. Mitch texts him a, "Where'd you go?" and Mat wants to tell him, _"Nowhere, dude. I'll always be here even when you're not."_

He settles on "went home" instead.

 

 

Life continues on like this for a few months. They drink, Mitch gushes, Mat daydreams. Mat can feel the distance separating them already, conversations never coming as easy as they used to as they drink to cover the silence. They haven't recorded together in a year, but the fans never seem to notice or care much anyway. Mat can see the earth cracking open at their feet, opening a chasm between them, and he wants to say he didn't expect this, he really does. But Mat isn't a liar, and even as they drive to the airport, Mitch's two over-stuffed suitcases full of all his possessions in the backseat, all Mat can think is that this is completely expected.

Mitch is surprisingly quiet and subdued, possibly hungover, as he stares out the window at the still lit street lights and the purple-orange of the sunrise across the horizon. It's all very cliched and poetic, but Mat can't bring himself to make the joke.

They talk idly about how Canada is so much better than America as Mitch gets his ticket and checks in his luggage. By the time the conversation has died off, they're standing right outside of the line for security. Mitch is standing in front of Mat, eyes blocked by his sunglasses and small smile on his face. They look at each other quietly for a moment, Mitch's height advantage all the more apparent with how small and insignificant Mat feels.

Mitch suddenly surges forward and wraps Mat in a hug and Mat laughs at the absurdity of it all. The airport is nearly empty, quiet enough that when Mitch says, "I'll miss you" it feels like he screamed it at the top of his lungs. Mat lets out a small, "Me too" and the two of them laugh and laugh. For a moment, everything feels like it did a year ago—the jokes come easy and the smiles even easier.

But Mitch turns back to look at the growing line at security, already taking a step back and ending their small moment. All at once, the sinking feeling comes back to Mat, and he frantically thinks that it doesn't have to be like this, that if he wasn't so stubborn and bitter he could be getting on that plane too. He wants to tell Mitch this, wants to try to apologize for how distant and shitty he's been the last few months, but Mitch is already walking away from him and Mat realizes it's too late. It was "too late" about six months ago.

Mat watches him go, yells out a "Bye, dude!" and watches Mitch for a few minutes, waiting for him to turn around and change his mind. But he doesn't, of course he doesn't, and Mat waits for him to disappear behind the metal detectors before he can bring himself to move from the spot where he's standing.

(Mitch texts him hours later to let him know he landed and Mat throws his phone at the wall before crawling into bed and going to sleep early. That night, he dreams of Clockwerk pinning him to the ground, a diamond axe— _Betty_ , he thinks bitterly—pressed to his throat.)

It's not that Mathew is mad at him, of course not. He's not mad at the rest of them either, but he could have used a little warning before they ripped his best friend away from him.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Guernica by Brand New, one of my go-to angsty!Mat Match songs.


End file.
